A/N: So…I have no idea what this is. It kind of took over me one night and I couldn't stop my fingers from typing this out.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter. I'm only have a bit of fun with the Next Gen.
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His father always says to be himself. Strange, considering Draco Malfoy is nothing if not smoke and mirrors when confronted with anyone other than his own son. His father is never himself, not even in the presence of his mother or his grandmother Malfoy.
Yet always:
"Father…what if they don't like me…"
"Scorpius, my sweet son, be yourself. Don't worry about what they think."
Those had been the final words spoken between the two of them at King's Cross. They are much kinder than his mother's, who had told him coolly to make the family proud.
He doesn't know how to make the family proud, or whose family who should try to please. The Malfoys have come to value forgiveness as their pride, offering their homes and lands as causes to the war. The Greengrass's, though, their pride comes through respectability and propriety.
The ride on the Hogwarts Express is long and even worse, lonely.
A few students pass his compartment, but when they see his hair, his eyes, his pale complexion so like his father's, they move on, whispering harshly to each other. Some stop, and ask him polite questions, but it's only the lady with the trolley asking if he wants something to tide him over.
He buys a few chocolate frogs with the Sickles his father gave him just for the occasion while his mother's attention had been elsewhere, but he doesn't eat them. He lets them hop around on the bench beside him as he looks at his cards.
Neville Longbottom stares back at him, young and scarred, for the longest time before he gives him a small encouraging smile.
It comforts him a little and he places it in one of his pockets before staring at the cards featuring older wizards with famous names he doesn't quite know the history of. He doesn't see the point in keeping them, but can't very well imagine throwing them away.
When the train stops he leaves them on the bench seat, just in case there's a card collector that wants them.
He disposes of his chocolate frogs, whose animation spells have worn off and only twitch as he picks them up. He tries not to find it sad, because they're only chocolate; they don't feel pain or sadness. They're just spelled candies.
Most of his family comes from a long line of Slytherins. Grandfather Malfoy's family as well as both sides of his mother's family have been Slytherins for as long at least a century, and the only one to deviate from that path on Grandmother Malfoy's side had been her estranged cousin. Scorpius would like not to be estranged, and his father promises he won't be and glares at his mother and grandmother until they agree affably.
He's sorted into Ravenclaw when Professor Featherheart settles the cobbled Sorting Hat a top his head.
His table looks dubious and unwelcoming, but he feels it's better than any other house.
He sits at the very end, and watches the rest of his classmates being sorted. Two names he recognize as his father and grandmother speak of their progenitors with business efficiency when considering galas and charity balls. Potter, Albus and Weasley, Rose.
Potter is sorted into Slytherin, which seems odd to Scorpius, but he's just been sorted into Ravenclaw so he supposes he has no reason to find it outlandish.
Weasley is sorted into Ravenclaw with him.
She sits next to a few older children, who look as if they know her well, and Scorpius tries not to think of the fact he still sits alone.
He remembers his father's words and wishes he had a book to read.
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His classes are simple enough. When he writes home to his parents about them, he feels that perhaps he should fabricate something as he can't imagine how they would be any different from the classes they took themselves. He tries to write about other things, something amusing or, at the very least, marginally interesting, however, he finds that there isn't much he finds humorous or intriguing.
His father and mother return separate letters; his father's full of encouragement and false attention, while his mother's are harder, but somehow no less loving as she writes for him to pay good attention in Muggle Studies, even if it is worthless.
Muggle Studies is actually one of the few classes he finds appealing. No one in his family appreciates Muggle artifacts, but in some of his books his father would buy him when he took Scorpius on business ventures would write about such things like telephones and cinema houses. He never knew what they were, but he'd always wondered.
He also enjoys Herbology and Arithmacy, though he's more talented in Transfiguation and Charms. He likes the simplicity of Herbology and Arithmacy; likes writing with his quill and pushing glove-covered hands into freshly churned soil while Professor Longbottom instructs from the head of the table.
He still doesn't have friends, even two months into the school year and with Halloween putting everyone in a festive mood.
He's often the first one to go to bed, just so he doesn't have to notice how the other five boys seem to be thick as thieves already.
His father tells him in one letter:
You will find friends, son, but you have to introduce yourself. You are so silent sometimes it is difficult to tell what you want. Perhaps if you were to speak with someone…
He speaks to one of the seemingly nicer boys in his dorm on the way to Potions—which he is abysmal at—asking what chapter they were supposed to have read, even though he knows they're only on chapter ten.
Alex St. Croix answers that they were supposed to read chapter nine and then calls for Mark Jones, racing away from Scorpius when he has his friend's attention.
He tries a few more times with other classmates, but they are just as inattentive and sometimes rude to him. He curses the name he sports and wishes, fruitlessly, that he looked a little more like his mother. He's irrationally mad at his father for the rest of the day.
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Scorpius meets his very first friend in a bizarre way. It's almost December and he's trying to wrap his scarf around his neck while pushing his books into his bag after Herbology class when Professor Longbottom calls for him.
His struggle becomes more frantic as he calls out, "Yes, Professor?"
The older man, as kind-faced as his impression in the Chocolate Frog card, requests for him to come to his office.
He thinks he's in trouble for long minutes and his heart pounds as he follows his professor to the back of Greenhouse One, where his office is located. He's suitably shocked when Professor Longbottom offers him tea and a scone and says jovially, "You look like a stiff wind will knock you right over."
"Thank you…" Scorpius returns, looking up at his professor with confusion. The scone is light and delicious, cranberry and citrus, and he eats it quickly before taking a sip of his tea, not one to be rude.
They sit in silence for a few seconds as the Professor fixes his own tea and settles comfortably behind his desk, which is strewn with seedlings, mulch, and dirt covered parchments. Scorpius wants to ask what the plants are, but still isn't sure what the point of this meeting is, and therefore is unsure of what to say.
Finally, Professor Longbottom asks, "This is a free period for you, yes?"
He nods.
"Good. I was wondering something at breakfast today…" he says, pausing to take a sip from his chipped cup. "You never seem to sit with your friends."
A flush makes itself apparent on Scorpius's cheeks, but he tries not to duck his head in embarrassment. He's unsure what to say at this point. He doesn't want to say he has no friends. It seems dramatic and in poor taste, and his mother always says that there's no need to be so maudlin when one has such a good life. However, he can't very well lie, or make up excuses as to why he's always alone.
It turns out he doesn't have to say anything though. Professor Longbottom takes a deep breath and nods. "I had feared as much. You seem just as shy as I was myself."
Scorpius honestly can't imagine Professor Longbottom as shy. He's filled with such energy now, always telling stories about the plants and humorous jokes involving the names or purpose. He moves around with confidence and lectures with sweeping gestures of love to his plant children. Not even the scar on his cheek seems to embarrass him, even when one of the crueler Slytherins asks about it point blank.
Professor Longbottom almost seems to read his mind, smiles kindly. "It's true. I was a pretty shy lad back in the day. Just ask your father."
Scorpius is horrified at what comes tumbling out of his mouth in response. "Father says you were a very clumsy boy." Which is also hard to imagine.
He ducks his head quickly, murmuring a heartfelt apology as he stares at the satchel in his lap.
Professor Longbottom only laughs. "He would remember that." He shakes his head, long, unruly honey-brown curls sweeping into his face. He sighs, and looks at Scorpius with something akin to recognition and asks, "Would you like to help me around the Greenhouse? There's a lot I need to get done before lunch."
Scorpius feels it's the least he can do after that atrocity that just left his lips.
It turns out that the Greenhouse is the first place he heads when he has free time, and that Professor Longbottom is a wonderful friend and mentor.
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His Aunt Daphne receives him from King's Cross at the Winter Holidays. His mother and father were delayed in their return from Ireland or, she assures him, they would have welcomed him.
She doesn't speak much, but asks enough to content both of them. She asks about his classes, and what his favorite subject is. He doesn't tell her that it's Muggle Studies, just as he doesn't tell her that as of yet his only friend is his Herbology professor. She would find both to be improper.
She leaves him at Malfoy Manor, in the care of his personal House Elf, Gilly. Gilly had been his only friend other than his father while growing up, and the little Elf hugs at his leg fondly and takes him to the kitchen for some hot chocolate. He coos over his collection of Chocolate Frog cards, which has grown since his ride to Hogwarts in September.
When his parents return home, he rushes to meet them, but halts when he sees them in the heat of an argument.
It isn't an oddity to see them arguing. They seem to fuss and shout over such trivial things. Grandmother Malfoy says that's sometimes how marriages work, but that it was no indication of love or lovelessness in a relationship.
Scorpius isn't always so sure.
They stop when they see him, their ruffled feathers settling when they see their shared joy.
His mother hugs him and says she's glad for him to be home. His father runs his hand through his hair and smiles quietly at him.
They talk of a Christmas festival for one of the orphanages his grandmother had opened shortly after the war, as well as a gala at the Ministry of Magic they were invited to at the behest of his mother's colleague. It's all very formal and stiff, because although they put on a perfect act, it's obvious his parents haven't resolved their argument.
After dinner, his mother asks him to retire to his room.
They yell for almost two hours before his mother breaks down into tears and his father consoles her.
The next morning, at breakfast, their conversations are more realistic.
Sometimes, Scorpius believes what his grandmother often tells him.
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On the return to school, Scorpius is haltingly approached by Rose Weasley.
"Would you perhaps mind company?" she asks, holding her satchel in a vice grip.
He's been so entranced in watching his chocolate frogs hop and play that he almost jumps at the sound of her voice. He quickly composes himself, and offers the rest of his empty compartment to her scooting his frogs into the waste bin hastily.
"Oh, thank you so much." The smile she benefits him with is almost blinding, but even better, it's real. She settles onto the bench across from him and says a little hesitantly. "My cousins are being complete prats. They've locked their compartments and proclaimed it 'Only for Men!'" She snorts and rolls her eyes. "As if they know what being men is remotely like."
He finds his lips twitching at her proclamation.
She looks at him for a moment, smile still lingering on her lips as she reaches her hand across the space between them. "I don't think I've ever properly introduced myself. I'm Rose. Rose Weasley."
He swallows, clears his throat, but reaches out to take her hand in his. "Scorpius Malfoy. A pleasure."
"Now that that's out of the way," she says resolutely. "Did you manage to finish the transfiguration homework over the break?"
Scorpius doesn't manage to stop the groan at the thought of their homework—three feet of parchment over transmorphical spells and their practical uses. "Just barely," he admits.
They commiserate over their homework, and on some level they familiarize themselves with each other, and share vague stories of their holiday break. Rose speaks mostly about her cousins and little brother, and the mischief they got into at Christmas dinner.
Scorpius doesn't really talk about much, but shows her wand-holster his mother had given him for Christmas.
Together they decide that perhaps they aren't well-suited for Ravenclaw, as they find the homework to be taxing more than interesting and their search for knowledge is quite narrowed.
That night at the return feast, Rose sits across from him at their table, chatting contentedly about the torrid affair that is apparently going on between their Defense Against Dark Arts teacher and their Potions Master.
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Rose accompanies him everywhere after the train ride back to school, but he still spends time in the Greenhouses with Professor Longbottom, telling him some stories that Rose shares with him.
He's happy for the first time at school.
Which is, of course, when the other students take a notice of him.
It is apparently unacceptable for a Malfoy to be around the daughter of a hero of the war.
The boys in his dorm call him cruel things.
Whispers attack his ears randomly in Arithmacy.
His cauldron explodes in Potions.
A charm is ill-aimed in Charms class.
Rose encourages him to ignore them, but he finds it hard when his sparring partner in Defense Against Dark Arts class casts a fire-dancing spell along his robes before they had even properly acknowledged each other.
He doesn't write to his father about it. Hardly writes to him at all and blames it on his demanding classes. He doesn't think he could handle whatever advice he would be offered, because right now being himself is the last thing on his mind.
He hides from Rose for two weeks before she gives up trying to stubbornly sit by him.
When she begins sitting by Heather Morton at all her meals, it stings, but the cruelty stops…
Mostly.
Apparently, one cannot be UN-noticed.
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By the end of his first year, Scorpius is ready to beg his father to transfer him to another school, any other school as long it's not Hogwarts.
He's sat silent in Professor Longbottom's office, not saying a word even when he's cajoled and tempted with scones and biscuits.
He's friendless and he's being attacked for reasons beyond his understanding by peers that know nothing about him.
On the train home he wipes at his eyes furiously when tears refuse to abate.
He ignores his parents' concerned looks, and is silent all the way home. Not even Gilly can console him as he tries to find a way to convince his father to let him gather his education at a different school.
He decides being himself is highly overrated.
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InnocentGuilt.